


An Ally by Any Other Name

by suchplausibilities



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Missing Scene, Spoilers, friendship or something like it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-18 19:47:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1440565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchplausibilities/pseuds/suchplausibilities
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha had long since grown immune to feeling guilty that others didn’t know who she really was. There was no reason to, when she was very rarely herself.</p><p>Missing scene from Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Ally by Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [torncorpse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/torncorpse/gifts).



> For Squid, my friend. You are the hero that Scotland needs, but not the one it deserves.
> 
> Unbetaed, as part of a 'post it, don't delete it' challenge I gave myself. Feel free to point out any typos.

The moment that it was decided that SHIELD had to be taken down, it became very clear to Natasha that she had things to do that had nothing to do with the plan to usurp Pierce. For all that Steve liked to think that this situation had to be all or nothing, she (and Hill, and Fury, she knew) knew that the reality was much more complicated than that. SHIELD had over two dozen active missions that could not be aborted immediately, not to mention hands in international situations that, if removed, could cause the destabilization of several small sovereign nations. Hill, she knew, undoubtedly made a few necessary adjustments to assure that there would be no immediate crisis, but that was just one side of things. A protocol had been put in place years ago for a situation of similar magnitude, and she had a part to play. 

“So, if we send Sam in as one of the engineers-” Steve started, gaze glued to the computer screen where the schematics of Insight-1 were pulled up.

“No. He’d be made within seconds.” Hill said, cutting him off swiftly and sternly. “I guarantee that the moment that he was spotted helping you and Romanoff on the freeway, his history, fingerprints, and facial recognition were all entered into the system. We should start here.” She pointed to a place on the screen, gaining Steve’s attention.

Natasha glanced away from them, knowing that now was as good a time as any to make her leave. When she turned to look at Fury, she wasn’t surprised to see that he was already returning her gaze. Without preamble, he gave her a short nod before turning immediately back to the dialogue happening at the table.

Having received all of the permission she needed, she turned on her heel, heading toward the front of the bunker. As she’d suspected, Steve didn’t even notice, too absorbed in the process of planning their infiltration with Hill. Sam, however, was eyeing her curiously.

She just smirked at him, giving him a little finger wave goodbye as she made her way out. Falcon was very intelligent and very observant, but he underestimated her. She had no doubt that, while he suspected that she was doing something shady, he had no idea that her knowledge of this situation was far greater than she let on, and that she had every intention of doing something about it. It was perfect that they’d met when they did. Her job was much easier when others didn’t know who exactly they were dealing with.

She’d been counting on that ability for years. It looked like she’d be relying on it for a little bit longer.

~*~ 

Hill’s Kia was a piece of shit, but it was an unregistered, nondescript piece of shit. It’d work just fine. She’d be able to get to the city and back in time to a quick briefing, and that was really all that mattered. 

She waited until she had pulled onto the freeway before she took out her phone. Her expression didn’t change as she heard the phone on the other side ring four times and go straight to voicemail; she simply hung up and dialed the number again.

“If this is Stark, you can fuck right off. And stop sending me pictures of your shitty arrow designs.”

“Protocol 212-48. Situation code Alpha Hotel 4 November November.”

The sigh on the other end was frustrated but urgent. “Thirty minutes.” 

Natasha smirked, satisfied, and threw the phone out of the window.

~*~

The safe house was one of her own; one she used in missions that Fury ran that were technically not WSC-sanctioned. Four others knew of its location. Two were currently in a bunker planning the demise of the organization they’d mistakenly thought that they ran. She wasn’t supposed to be aware that one was still alive. The other was climbing in through the bedroom window as she spoke.

“You better not be fucking with me, Tash,” she heard from her position at the counter. “I swear, I do this one more time and Bobbi’s going to start slipping aconite into my orange juice.” 

She smirked despite herself, glad to hear his voice. They hadn’t worked together in nearly a year, and it was strange enough that she missed him. She wiped the small smile from her face quickly, though, knowing that this situation required complete solemnity. “Kitchen.” 

He was by her side a few seconds later, pulling out a seat. They’d known each other long enough that he was aware that complete seriousness from her, especially after such a long period of separation, meant that they were in deep shit. 

“So we’re really burning the house down. Shit.” She didn’t bother to reply, instead getting to the meat of the situation, and what their roles were. In official SHIELD databases, the ones that could be accessed by any government organization, she and Clint were both level 6 agents. In reality, they’d been level 7 for nearly five years when the Battle of New York happened. When she began working with Steve, she’d been promoted to level 8. Outside of those now-arbitrary numbers, Hill and Fury often gave the two of them assignments that were technically above their clearance level. It only made sense, really – as an intelligence agency, SHIELD often had things that needed done that could not become public knowledge. Clint and Natasha’s skills both fit that type of work perfectly.

Eventually, Fury’s trust in them in delicate political situations translated into trusting them to carry out potentially treasonous actions in order to preserve SHIELD’s collected intelligence and the lives of the agents on active duty. It was a foregone, conclusion, really; Natasha trusted Fury’s judgment more than her own, and if there was one thing that Clint loved, it was a last hurrah. Neither had imagined that it’d happen on this scale, but that ultimately didn’t matter. The work had to be done anyway.

The majority of what they needed to accomplish could be done within the confines of her safe house; nothing that needed to be done would require them to leave DC. The Protocol was designed to be completed no more than six hours after it was initiated, with a handful of agents all over the world taking the lead on very specific tasks as soon as they were alerted of the problem. No one knew all of the details, but Natasha knew bits and pieces of what needed to be done.

In Prague, there was an asset that had been feeding SHIELD invaluable intelligence on Iran for years. Recently, said intelligence included nuclear launch codes. This asset needed to be hidden and protected at all costs.

In Moscow, there was an active operation working to undermine the more radical of the government’s actions and policies. A call to a certain agent would assure that all agents involved were informed that it was time to initiate their back-up protocol. Another would assure that the team in Osaka tasked with running said operation would be extracted and debriefed before anyone knew that it existed.

In San Francisco, a storage room containing files full of information that had been intentionally left out of official SHIELD databases needed to be packed up and transported out of the city to a location known only to the driver and the organization’s former director.

Her and Clint’s close proximity to SHIELD headquarters meant that they were, for the most part, the secretaries tasked with informing others of what was happening so that everything could be put into motion. She’d been somewhat annoyed by that at the time. Now, she found herself impressed by Fury’s foresight. Had she been given anything heavier than this, then she could have compromised her role in Steve’s plan. 

Unfortunately, her full schedule also meant she couldn’t do anything more than hope that none of the Protocol’s hand-picked agents turned out to be HYDRA. Her trust in Fury’s judgment was solid, but Pierce had proven that not even he was above being duped, and this situation was too delicate to withstand well-placed sabotage.

“So.” Clint said, glancing over to her. They’d migrated to the floor in front of living room couch as they’d worked, files spread out in front of them. They needed the information for an agent in Kinshasa set to call them back shortly. After that, Clint was off to tie up a few loose ends. She’d wait for a confirmation from the Agent in San Francisco, and then would be leaving herself. For now, though, all they could do was wait. “The Winter Soldier, huh?”

His tone was neither joking nor mocking, and his expression was grim. For her part, Natasha just looked at him. He didn’t know the whole story, but he knew more than most. She’d known that this line of questioning was coming, even as she dreaded it. 

“HYDRA’s pulling his strings again. He was completely blank.” She followed his gaze to the loosely taped bandage on the left side of her chest. “Well, mostly. He still uses the same toys. Soviet slug; no rifling.” 

Clint scoffed. “Are you sure that wasn’t just a gift for you?” He didn’t move to check the wound, to be sure that she could afford more activity today, but she could tell that he wanted to. Old habits. “You said he has residuals sometimes, right? Maybe killing you for your betrayal is one of them.”

Natasha smirked ironically, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Sweet talker.” He bumped her shoulder and she gave a short laugh. “No; all he wanted was to shut us up. His single-mindedness wasn’t so much ‘loyalty to mother Russia’ as it was ‘I must complete the mission because that’s the only reason I’m alive.’ HYDRA is very no frills.”

The silence that followed told her clearly that she wasn’t going to like his next question. After awhile, he spoke up. “Did you tell Rogers?”

She didn’t answer, knowing that her silence would be answer enough. For all that she didn’t like the idea of being paired with Steve at first, he had grown on her. Sure, she found his world view as a whole to be extremely naïve, but he seemed to be learning. Besides, she found that his belief in the human conditioning could be oddly inspiring, at times. And she appreciated that he wasn’t nearly the innocent school boy that others assumed he’d be. It made it that much more fun when she was able to extract a few good blushes from him. She liked Steve, and she liked their rapport. She saw no reason to tell him the truth.

And she might not ever need to. One of the files currently leaving San Francisco was hers. The unabridged version. The one that she hoped would never again see the light of day. The world knowing that she was a killer was one thing; knowing how she’d gotten that way was something else entirely. Now, she had a very good chance of getting her wish.

Natasha had long since grown immune to feeling guilty that others didn’t know who she really was. There was no reason to, when she was very rarely herself. In fact, she’d perfected four different versions of the ‘real’ her, useful for all situations. She had no need to do anything more than that.

Except, with Steve, she was beginning to feel like she owed him more. She hadn’t known that the Winter Soldier was Bucky, not at first, but she’d been to the exhibit just like everyone else in DC. That face had been unmistakable. But she was a spy. As a rule, she didn’t share information for no reason.

“I get that telling the truth gives you hives, but don’t you feel like this is just a time thing? He’s gonna find out eventually.”

The phone rang, then, and she answered it without hesitation. It was possible that Clint was right, but that didn’t mean she was willing to speed up the time table. And what did Steve expect? She’d warned him.

 _Who do you want me to be?_  
~*~  
Fury had left the table by the time she returned, thankfully. He was alive, but he wasn’t healed. If he was going to be a part of this fight, then he needed time to rest. She was glad (and impressed) that they’d managed to wrestle him back to bed.

“If you were going to go for a walk, you could have at least taken me with you.” Steve said, looking up from whatever he was studying on the table. His eyes were friendly but sharp, as if he didn’t trust that she hadn’t done something objectionable, but was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. So he didn’t trust her completely, just yet. That knowledge left her with an odd mixture of pride and sadness that she chose not to analyze. 

Instead, she returned his gaze innocently. “You looked busy, and my intentions weren’t that healthy.” She tossed two bags onto the table, Jack in the Box logo clearly visible. Steve just shook his head. “What? I was starving, and all that’s down here are MREs. I like to leave the roughing it to the military men.” She then sat a drink carrier on the table, pulling out a Starbucks Frappuccino that she’d procured for herself. 

Sam just smiled. “A woman after my own heart. If you got me fries and an eggroll, then I might just propose here and now.” He dug in heartily, clearly having worn himself out with all of that professional urgency. She appreciated how easily he was willing to sit any suspicions he had aside. She doubted that he believed she had just been on a food run, but if anyone called her on it, she knew it wouldn’t be him. 

“I don’t get out of bed for less than two carats.” The words were bland, but punctuated with a playful smirk. 

His reply was lost within the caverns of his overly-full mouth, and she wasn’t brave enough to have him repeat himself. Shaking her head, Natasha turned her gaze to Maria, who hadn’t looked up or stopped typing since she’d returned. “I know your feelings on fast food, but if you’ll make an exception just this once…”

“Thanks.” Maria said as Natasha trailed off, shooting her a brief, knowing look before turning her attention back to the screen.

Natasha shrugged, sitting down next to Steve, who was still watching her curiously.

“Can you quell your hunger for just a few more minutes? I’d like to talk about our strategy for when we return to SHIELD.” The severity of his words were softened somewhat as he claimed a drink from the carrier, searching for a straw. He was clearly trying to put her at ease, but Steve had never been good at manipulation, no matter how simple.

“Of course.” She pushed her own drink away from her, looking at him in complete seriousness. “I’m all yours, Captain.”


End file.
